


Miracles

by DarkEyedDreamer



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Car Accidents, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Minor Injuries, Suicidal Thoughts, this took a turn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 13:44:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11403618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkEyedDreamer/pseuds/DarkEyedDreamer
Summary: Alex is driving Justin home; but he's a little drunk and a little high. It shouldn't be a surprise when they crash. What is a surprise is what happens when two emotionally unsteady teenagers are trapped together with no way out.





	Miracles

Alex guessed that it could be called irony, but despite his self-destructive tendencies the closest he ever came to death wasn’t his own fault. Not intentionally so, at least. He supposed he could have stopped it if he had really thought about it, but the effort to kill himself hadn’t be there that night. It had all been an accident. He supposed it was perfectly in his personality for him being too chicken to do what he ended up doing on accident. Hell, maybe it was even the spirit of Hannah Baker helping him get what he deserved.

It was a few days after his latest incident and he was behind the wheel again, feeling the power of the car in his veins like some sort of drug. He wondered if driving a car would ever feel normal again. Justin was in the passenger seat beside him. He was visibly less than thrilled by the idea of Alex taking him to Jessica’s, but it had been raining since noon and the prospect of spending the night at Bryce’s must have been even less appealing, because in the end he accepted the offer.

Darkness had yet to fall officially, but the heaviness of the rain made it impossible to tell. Alex didn’t mind, found it relaxing to be honest. He’d always liked the rain, and recently he’d been more and more aware of how much he connected with the darkness. Of course, suicide was on his mind; but it had been there non-stop since he got those damn tapes. Tonight it wasn’t in the forefront of his thoughts more than it was nagging softly behind a cloud of weed smoke, and he counted that was a win.

He was just drunk enough to realize he shouldn’t have been driving, a few beers that had been drank way too fast were just beginning to hit him all at once. When he got into the car, he’d felt fine. Now his stomach was churning and his eyes felt heavy. He shouldn’t have left Bryce’s but Justin really wanted to talk to Jessica (Alex was pretty sure they were fighting. He understood why) and Alex really didn’t want to spend the night at the rapist’s house. It was so fucked up that he had to say that. That it was even an option to willingly spend the night at a rapist’s house. Why did he even go over there anyway? What did he care if people got suspicious he stopped hanging around those idiots? Shit like that happened all the time. This was high school. Friendships ended. His and Hannah’s had.

He supposed by this point that the only thing keeping him sane was a lot of drugs, so maybe that was why he was always over. Maybe it was his mind trying to keep him breathing. He couldn’t blame it for trying, but it felt a lot like it was fighting a losing battle.

He knew he should pull over, but this was a small town. Someone would pull over to help and find the drunken teens. Alex’s dad being on the police force would get him out of trouble there, but not at home for damn sure. He’d be grounded for the rest of his life. Besides, he thought he could probably make it. He wasn’t that bad off, other than the slight blur to everything. But the thought of Sheri and Jeff and that damn stop sign was beginning to make him feel sick, so he decided to take back roads. At least back there nothing was around to hit.

Dirt roads didn’t work well in the rain. It would have been common knowledge to someone who wasn’t drunk, but to Alex it seemed like the more reasonable option compared to driving around town. He couldn’t see very well without the street lights, although those had made his eyes blurry so really it was a no-win situation. Maybe he really should pull over. At least slow down some. But there Justin was, squirming uncomfortably in his seat like he wanted to get away from Alex as soon as possible, and the blond couldn’t blame him enough to put up an argument. So he kept driving.

He didn’t think he was speeding, but maybe he was. All he knew for sure was that he didn’t see the pothole before he hit it- whether because of the rain or his blurry vision, he again wasn’t sure. They spun for a few moments, while Alex tried his best to keep them moving straight. Part of him wasn’t sure that it was really happening, thought maybe the weed was messing with his eyes and making the room spin. He feared moving the wheel too far in case it wasn’t. 

Justin didn’t scream, simply sucked in a sharp breath and closed his eyes. Then, the road was gone from beneath them. 

Alex tensed up. One of them screamed, but he wasn’t quite sure who it was. He was still too high to really grasp what was happening fully, but his chest felt tight like he was scared. The car was still spinning but Alex knew damn well he couldn’t fix it, and instead of trying he tensed up for some sort of impact. They hit something, probably a tree given the fact it was the only sturdy thing out here, before sliding down and landing hard. 

He wasn’t sure if he blacked out or not, but when he opened his eyes everything hurt. His seat belt was digging into his skin and he was pretty sure there was a bruise forming. There was something sticky on his cheek, and after a horribly delayed amount of time he was pretty sure it was blood. His airbag didn’t go off, but he wasn’t sure that it would have helped even if it had. He was pretty sure they hit the tree from the side.

“Standall… Standall... Alex.” Justin was saying, hand pressed against Alex’s shoulder, and Alex had to blink a few times in order to focus enough to hear the words right.

“Yeah?” He asked, voice coming out wrong. It was shaking like he was having a hard time breathing. He didn’t think he was. Maybe he was scared.

“Dude you’re bleeding pretty bad. Are you okay?” 

Alex brought his hand to the sticky part of his cheek, only to realize Justin meant his wrist was bleeding. He didn’t know what he cut it on, hadn’t even noticed until he saw it, but the stinging pain was suddenly filling his senses. Numbed by the drugs and alcohol in his system, but still aching in a bad way. He knew when his mind was clear, that was going to hurt real fucking bad.

“I think I’m okay. W-we should get up on the road or something.” Alex said, trying to think properly.

He tried opening the door, only to realize it would only push out a few inches before catching on something much too strong to be pushed. It took him longer than he wanted to admit that they’d fell into the river. It ran dry this time of year, which he guessed was supposed to be lucky. Otherwise they would have drowned, their entire car was covered by it. No matter how hard he pressed, the only thing that happened was dirt falling into his lap from above. A quick look at the other doors showed the same fate on all sides. They were trapped in their own coffin, already six feet under ground. Alex tried hard not to find that ironic.

The first time he got a good look at Justin, he panicked. The boy must have hit his head on the window or something, because there was blood on his temple and his lip was busted. His eye was darkening, but only slightly so. Not nearly as bad as it should have been. Alex wasn’t nearly sober, but being scared was helping get a clearer mind. It also meant that his aches were steadily growing. He didn’t know if it was worth it.

“Alex. Hey man we need to wrap that arm of yours.” Justin said, and Alex could only manage a nod. Justin seemed better off right now, and the blond was willing to listen.

They got to the backseat, although Alex didn’t remember it. Just remembered that Justin was saying something about more room, and then he was there. Was he blacking out? God, he hoped not. That was just what this needed right now. The stinging in his wrist was growing worse, and when Justin tied a piece of cloth around it he hissed in pain.

“Stop fucking whining Standall. You’re too drunk for that to really hurt.” 

He didn’t want to know why Justin wasn’t more worried about himself. Tried not to think about all the scattered bruises the teenager always had. His dad had made a comment about it once, passively. Said one of his ‘friends’ had a rough home life and that he’d had to come down to the apartment for domestic violence threats a lot. Hinted that the problem was mostly between the mom’s plethora of boyfriends and him. From what he gathered about Justin from Bryce’s playful-albeit-cruel jokes, it sounded about right. If Justin was used to being in pain, this was probably nothing to him. Alex didn’t think that was a good thing.

The cloth, as it turned out, was from Justin’s shirt. The younger boy hadn’t even realized he’d taken it off. He couldn’t tell if he had a concussion or if the alcohol was really just beginning to take full effect. Either way, it wasn’t a good sign. But at least it meant he didn’t have a clear enough head to check the basketball player out. They were in a bad enough situation without his mind deciding to stare.

The pain from compressing his arm cut through the haze like a knife. For a few moments he felt miserably sober. The pain in his wrist was awful, his head hurt, and his body was trembling from shock. Still, his first thought was to grab a water bottle off the floor of the car and pour some onto the remnants of Justin’s shirt. He raised it up to dab away at the blood running down Justin’s temple. He tensed up, tried to move away. Alex grabbed his arm instinctively, the soberness fading away once more. 

Alex hated himself. That was probably his only clear-headed moment of the night, and he’d spent it cleaning up Justin rather than forming a plan. The other boy stayed ominously still after that, and Alex realized it was probably because he used his wounded arm to keep steady and Justin probably didn’t want to injure it further. He didn't understand entirely why Justin cared enough to be so careful, but decided not to question it.

“Do you have your phone?” Justin asked, eyebrow raised. He winced as the action hurt his temple.

“Phone?” He echoed, the words making sense to his mind but not quite registering as meaningful.

“We need to call someone to get us out of here. I forgot mine at Bryce’s, we need to use yours.” 

“Oh. Right.”

Alex reached for his pocket but found the phone that usually rested there, in fact, wasn’t. He gestured vaguely to his seat in the front and Justin disappeared for a moment, letting out a swear. His hand came back into view and the blond swayed backward, thinking he was about to be hit before he realized Justin was holding his phone. Or, what was left of it. It was shattered, part of the glass jutting out of the screen precariously. Alex wondered if maybe that was what cut his wrist, but it didn’t seem long enough. 

“It’s broken.” Alex stated dumbly, the horror of his situation not quite hitting him yet. He knew he should be scared by that, but his body was having a hard time catching up.

Justin moved back to sit in the backseat again. “Yeah. So now what?”

Alex shrugged, eyes feeling heavy. When did he get so tired? How was he even tired in a situation like this? “We sleep until someone comes and gets us?” He offered.

“Alex you have a head injury and you’re bleeding. I don’t think you’re supposed to sleep.” Justin reminded him, although he looked uncertain. He wasn’t entirely sober himself.

He was pretty sure he said something in reply, but he couldn’t recall what. He must have been convincing though, because he woke up. Meaning he must have fallen asleep at some point. It was still dark out, so he must not have been asleep long, but he didn’t feel as drunk. Still a little high maybe, but the drunkenness was dying down. He was relieved, other than the blinding pain in his wrist.

Taking a moment to look at the situation, he tried not to feel horrified. The side of the car was pushed in from where the tree hit. It looked worse than he remembered it being. Definitely unfixable. Hell if someone above them saw it they’d probably think the boys inside were dead. How weren’t they dead? He gingerly touched his wounded wrist, taking into account the blood that had seeped through Justin’s shirt. He didn’t think it was bleeding anymore, but the sight was still surreal. He had never seen that much of his own blood before. Not even close, actually.

Justin was looking at him. He hadn’t realized in his bid to examine the damage, but a glance at the person sitting opposite of him confirmed piercing blue eyes were watching him carefully. Alex met his gaze and tried not to look guilty. He wasn't guilty of anything, he didn't know why the other boy was looking at him like he was. Justin looked fuming, and Alex was pretty sure he knew where this was going. He prepared himself for a fight, but his body ached at the thought of speaking.

“Nice going man. You couldn’t have waited to kill yourself until I was out of the car?”

“It was an accident Foley, I hit a pothole.” He protested. “Do you really think I’d want to play Thelma and Louise with you?”

“I don’t know, you were pretty damn thrilled to do it when we were scaring Clay. What happened, daddy not stop you this time?” Justin snarled.

“Fuck you!” He snapped, pushing the boy backwards with both hands. 

He must have opened up the wound on his wrist again because the pain that shot through him was enough to stop any anger from flowing. He let out a hiss of pain and a few jumbled words that were meant to be swears as he sat back, away from the other teenager, and cradled his wrist in his opposite hand. He wasn’t angry. Hadn’t been at all anyway. He was just tired. So fucking tired. He wanted to be angry, because at least then he didn't have to feel tired.

Justin didn’t seem angry anymore, instead he grabbed Alex’s arm to hold it still. Alex struggled only slightly, watched the way the muscles in the older boys's arm flexed against the mild protest. “Dude you’re going to die from blood loss if you keep messing with this.”

Alex laughed, but it sounded a lot like a sob. “Die from a slit wrist. What are the fucking odds? Hannah’s going to be thrilled by the irony.”

“You're not going to die.”

“I hope I do.”

Alex’s stomach was hurting, and he couldn’t tell if it was from the crash or his actual stomach problem, but it didn’t matter. None of this fucking mattered because he was losing his damn mind. The blood was once again flowing from his wrist freely, and he wanted to not feel sick from the smell. He hadn't smelled in the first time. How much blood did he have to lose before there was a smell like this? A staggering thought hit him, made him freeze where he was sat. This was the last thing Hannah smelled. This metallic coppery scent was filling her nose for her last breath. The thought was going to make him be sick.

Only then he was warm, and he realized that Justin had pulled him into some sort of a hug. Alex’s head was curled into Justin’s chest, and the sound of his heartbeat was somewhat relaxing against the horrible feeling overwhelming him. The fact that his chest was bare and Alex was still a little buzzed was a lot less relaxing. It made him want to pull away, in fact, because he was pretty sure he was going to slip and say something stupid; but he was just short of having a panic attack and Justin was holding him like he cared, and Alex just wanted to relax for a moment. Wanted to feel cared for for a moment.

Justin kept hold of his wrist, trying to keep it elevated. It made the position awkward, and some part of him wanted to pull his wrist into his chest. Wanted to keep it safe. He didn’t bother to try though. Justin was stronger than him and he didn’t want to risk hurting it even more. He didn’t think he wanted to die with an audience.

“I think I’m doing to have to apply pressure on it.” Justin muttered, mostly as a warning.

Alex shrugged his shoulders, figured that was a good enough answer. He must have been in too much pain as it was, because he just went complacent. For a moment there was hesitation, and then there was the worst pain Alex had ever felt in his life. He screamed, was sure he did this time, clenching his eyes and his fists tightly as if that would help. It didn’t. He was pretty sure he remembered this feeling, wondered if that’s what actually put him to sleep. Did he pass out from pain? Was that why he woke up?

“Stop stop stop stop!” He demanded, his opposite fist tightening further.

“I can’t stop until the bleeding slows down.” Justin said, and Alex was pretty sure he got some form of enjoyment out of it. “You lost a lot the first time, you’re going to start getting dizzy.”

“I’m already dizzy from the pain, what’s the difference?” He snapped.

“One won’t kill you.”

“What a fucking shame, right?”

There was no response to that, and the blond realized just how much he hated the quiet. He could only hear the sound of of his own heavy breathing. He would much rather be yelling right now. Justin must have noticed how tightly Alex was wound because he forced the blond's uninjured hand open. He moved the hand to the seat passively. 

“If you’re going to fucking grab something don’t choose something that bleeds.” 

Alex was eager for the break in silence. “Sorry I don’t have the mommy issues to know what to do in this situation.”

He was pretty sure he said something too far when Justin’s eyes narrowed into dangerous looking slits. Alex had never been particularly scared of Justin, but if he ever were he was pretty sure now would be a good time for it. He looked livid. The same sort of look he’d been shooting at Bryce for a long time now. Only he didn’t have to pretend to be nice to Alex. Had nothing to gain from playing nice.

For a moment he looked genuinely like he was contemplating twisted Alex’s arm. The blond teen held his breath, body instantly tensing up. He didn’t try to pull away, knew it would only hurt worse. Either he looked truly pathetic or Justin had a better hold on his temper than Alex thought because the older boy simply let go. Alex pulled it closer to himself, cradling the wound to his chest.

“Let’s make something very clear here, Standall. You don’t get to talk about my family life like you know shit.” He snarled.

Alex nodded, suddenly not feeling strong enough to put up an effort. “Got it.” He mumbled, because he knew he was in the wrong. Didn’t matter anyway.

They were quiet for a long time, sitting as far away from each other as possible in the vehicle. At one point, Justin tried to kick out the windshield. Alex didn’t tell him about the fact that it was bulletproof glass (courtesy of his paranoid father) and wasn’t going to snap. Wanted him to be hopeful for a little while longer. Or at least get out as much anger as he could.

Justin gave up after a while anyway, and Alex pretended to be asleep.

-

“Do you really want to die, Alex?”

The noise was so sudden it startled him. It was the first thing they’d said to each other in what had to be an hour or two. The blond tried to look indifferent as the words hit him, straightened his back even though his stomach felt like it was falling to his toes. He shrugged his shoulders, trying to remain passive.

“Debating it. Still thinking about how you said if I killed myself you’d die too. Seems like a pretty good cause to die for.” He spat. Justin didn’t seem impressed.

“You said that.”

Alex shrugged. “You set me up for it. I’m beginning to think you’ve got an obsession with suicide. Wanna share with the class?” He asked sarcastically. He knew his deflecting made it obvious, but he didn't care. As long as he didn't have to talk about it.

Justin rolled his eyes. “Fucking hell Standall I’m being serious here.”

Alex, who had been silently begging for Justin to just drop the subject, didn’t know what about the situation finally broke him. Didn’t know if it was because they were alone or because he was hurt or because no one had even thought to ask him that. But something must have struck him just right because something inside him just snapped. 

“You want serious? Fine. I want to blow my fucking brains out. I think about it all the time. Think about how easy it would be to just end this bullshit. How I’d deserve it anyway.” By the end, his shout had turned into a whisper, and he curled into himself, knees pressed to his chest.

He didn’t know what he expected once he said it. They weren’t friends, they weren’t even close to it, really. They only hung around in the same circles because Alex wanted people to like him. Justin was fucking his ex girlfriend, for God’s sake. But whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t what he got. What he got was a teenager who was looking at him with too much sympathy.

“If any of us deserved not to be on the list, it’d be you Alex. It was a stupid prank. You were trying to piss of Jessica. I mean it’s not a good thing to do, but it’s not worth dying over.” He said in a soothing tone.

Alex wanted so badly to believe him. There was a twitch of hope in his heart. He stamped it away. “Apparently she thought so.”

“She’s a fucking liar. She wanted to kill herself because of Bryce. She only put you on the damn tapes because she needed people to add. You hurt her, yeah. But you did not kill Hannah Baker.”

“But I didn’t help her.”

“No one helped her Alex! No one helped her, and she died. And yeah, that’s fucking sad but you don’t get to take the easy way out of this. You stand the fuck up and you help the next one and you make sure this didn’t happen for no reason.” Justin snapped.

Alex laughed bitterly. “Oh so is that why you’re doing this then? You want to feel better about Hannah by helping me?”

“No damn it! I don’t want you to die too!”

“Why the fuck not, Foley? What would it even matter to you? Scared I’ll talk about the tapes in my will?”

“I don’t give a fuck about the tapes right now. I don’t want you to die because you’re a good person Alex!” Justin snapped, giving him a look that made it hard to think he was lying.

Alex looked down at the ground, kicking the carpet with his shoe. He shook his head, all the anger leaving his body and leaving behind an aching feeling in his bones. “It doesn’t feel like it.” He said meekly.

He didn’t really expect an answer. He didn’t know what kind of answer Justin would even be able to give him. Sure, Justin understood where he was coming from and that was more than anyone else he’d thought of talking to, but he wasn’t even holding up well himself. How was he supposed to make Alex feel any better?

There was a few moment of silence which stretched on for hours. Alex was beginning to give up on any form of an answer at all, and he didn’t know why that was so disappointing to him. He knew that Justin wasn’t technically his friend. He didn’t have any reason to try to make the blond feel better. Hell, Alex was the reason they were in this mess at all. Still, it felt like a little hope he thought he’d already lost was leaving him.

Justin let out a long breath, and Alex’s heart picked up without his permission. There was a heaviness to the air that made him regret opening his mouth, but some faint feeling in his chest pleaded for it to not be in vain. He felt Justin move closer to him, put a reassuring hand on his back.

“Alex I’m not good at cheering people up. I’ve never been any good at it. But answer this for me. Do you want to die feeling like a bad person?”

Alex shook his head miserably.

“Well, then you need to give yourself the chance to feel like a good person.” Justin said, as if it were simple. Alex wondered if he believed it himself.

“How do I do that?” Alex asked tentatively, finding himself looking the basketball player in the eyes. The moment felt like too much, but he found himself unwilling to back away.

“Takes time, I guess. Try your hardest to be a good person and eventually you’ll see yourself that way.” 

Alex snorted. “What exactly do you expect me to do until then, Foley? Hate myself?”

Justin shrugged his shoulders. “I guess so. Talk to someone.”

“Like who, a therapist? My dad would be fucking furious, Justin. We don’t talk about feelings and shit. And it’s not like I have that many friends.”

Justin hesitated. “Well, you have me don’t you?”

“We aren’t really friends.”

“We’re close enough that you told me this in the first place, right?”

And he couldn’t argue with that, really. Because it was true. Alex hadn’t told anyone else about his plans to kill himself, so he must see something in him. He didn’t understand what. All things considered, he should hate Justin. But he didn’t. He liked him. It was much harder to deny now, although he didn’t quite have to admit it either. That was a whole can of worms he didn't need right now. Having a crush on his ex's new boyfriend who he had every reason in the world to hate wasn't something he could handle.

“I guess so.”

“Well then tell me about it more often, alright? I’m always around.”

"Except when you're off the radar."

Justin looked hesitant for a moment before he gave as much as a smile as he could apparently muster. "I'll give you my phone number. I'll always answer, okay?"

Alex wanted to believe it. Didn't. "That's more than you do for Jessica." He knew it was uncalled for, but he wanted this moment to stop feeling so much like exactly what he needed.

There was a moment of hesitation before Justin nodded. "Yeah. It is."

He wanted to ask why, but he didn't want to know. So instead, he laid his head back on Justin's shoulder. He didn't move it until the ambulance arrived. Someone must have called it in. According to the paramedic, it was an anonymous call. The hysterical part of Alex wanted to believe that it was Hannah. That it was her saying she wasn't mad at him anymore. She called in one accident already, and death hadn't stopped her talking yet. Rationally, he knew that wasn't true. He didn't believe in those sort of miracles. But Justin rode in the ambulance with him even after being cleared by a paramedic. He held Alex's hand when they had to peel off the cloth on his wrist, and didn't complain about how hard Alex squeezed.

That seemed like a miracle itself.


End file.
